


Sick and Tired

by Obnoxiious



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom
Genre: Based on a dream I had, Boob Pillow, Cuddles, Cuddly Dan, Established Relationship, F/M, He's So Cuddly, He's so cute, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Illness, Long Hair, Not Beta Read, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, cuddly fluff, fluff ending, hair fluff, migraines, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 04:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obnoxiious/pseuds/Obnoxiious
Summary: Dan has a sore throat, a fever, and the sweats.[This is really fluffy, so if you like fluff, you're in luck! It's also in first person because I write best that way. There's no name for the MC though, so you can imagine it's you if you want! I just didn't feel like naming her.]





	1. Sick

**Author's Note:**

> I had a really vague dream where Dan was sick and was like cuddling into my chest while I played with his hair. That dream spawned this story! I think it turned out really cute, and I hope you all enjoy it too. There will be a part 2 coming soon! I'm already working on it, and I'm about 1/3 of the way done. While you wait, why don't you check out my main story? It's called Runaway Heart, and it's also a Dan Avidan fan fiction. If you liked this, I think you'll like that. (Shamelessly promoting my own work.)

I walked through the door to our house, and it was pretty silent. I called out, “I’m home.” I hung up my coat and tossed my keys into the dish on the coffee table. “What do you feel like for dinner?”

From down the hall, I could hear Danny’s muffled cough. For the past two days, he’s been trying to hide how sick he feels so I won’t worry about him too much, but I could tell he hasn’t been feeling well. I wasn’t planning to push him too much about it, but he started running a fever this morning, so I finally put my foot down and forced him to stay home. He’ll work himself to death if I let him.

I smiled to myself, knowing he was awake, and began walking toward the bedroom door. I knocked on the door lightly before pushing it open a crack. “Are you decent?”

“If by decent, you mean devilishly handsome. Yes, I always am,” he peeked out from under the blankets with a weak smile.

I giggled at his feeble attempt at a joke, opening the door completely. He looked pale and his usually fluffy hair was sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. “How you feeling?” I asked sympathetically, knowing he wouldn’t give me an honest answer.

“A little better actually,” he tried to force another smile. He’s a bad liar. It’s obvious he feels like crap.

“Did your fever come down after I left this morning? Be honest with me,” I pleaded. I had given him some ibuprofen in hopes that his fever would subside for the time while I was working.

“Yeah, it did actually,” he smiled weakly again. “This fever only started like half an hour ago.” He moved to sit up on the bed, so I helped him sit up. Being sick really takes a lot out of him, I’ve noticed.

“Alright,” I sighed with slight relief. I looked down at my watch. “Well, it’s been eight hours. Do you want some more ibuprofen?” I ask, looking up into his watery eyes. He nodded silently, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the ball of his hand.

I reached into the nightstand drawer, where I kept my emergency stash of meds. I sometimes was struck with headaches right before bed, so I had to keep some nearby.

After giving him two pills, I picked up his water glass that was now empty, and moved to the bathroom to fetch him some water. I came back and he was weakly pushing his hair off his forehead. It couldn’t have been a pleasant feeling.

I handed him the water, and he took the pills without a word. After setting the glass back on the nightstand, he looked up at me.

“Do you want me to pull your hair up for you? It’ll get it out of your face,” I offered to him. Again, he nodded silently. I pulled my ponytail down and wrapped the hair band around my wrist.

He scooted forward on the mattress so I could sit behind him. I lightly combed my fingers through his soft chocolate curls to gather it all together. I heard him sigh happily, he loved when I played with his hair.

“I bet that feels so much better than having it all stuck to your forehead,” I thought aloud.

“It does,” he confirmed.

“Did I get it all off your face?” I ask him, leaning to peek at his face.

“Yeah, thanks,” he smiled at me from the side, noticing I was looking over his shoulder.

I smiled back happily. I tied the band around his hair and made a small, fluffy ponytail. “There,” I kissed the back of his shoulder affectionately, “all done.”

I wrapped my arms loosely around him from behind, trying to gently embrace him. He reached his hand up to my arm around his chest, stroking my skin with his thumb.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, Danny,” I sighed into his back, my cheek resting between his shoulder blades. I could feel the immense heat that his skin was giving off, even through his clothes.

He leaned his head back slightly to rest on top of mine. “Thank you for taking such good care of me,” he spoke quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smiled, gathering the material of his t-shirt in my fingers. We stayed in silence like that for just a moment. He sat up before I did.

I released him from my embrace, running a hand through my hair. I leaned up and kissed his moist cheek. “Do you want something to eat? I know you probably haven’t eaten all day.”

“You’re right, I haven’t,” he nodded. “I’m not really hungry, but I know you’re gonna make me.” He smiled at me as I stood from the bed.

I grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over his shoulders. He was probably still cold from the fever. He looked up at me with hooded eyes, smiling as wide as he could manage.

“How about I make some loaded potato soup?” I offered. I had found a quick recipe for it on my lunch break, and I wanted to try it out. I also wanted to make something a bit light for him in case he’s nauseous, even though he wouldn’t tell me either way. “It’ll only take half an hour. The ibuprofen should be kicked in my then. You might feel up to it.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he nodded. He stood from the bed, clutching the blanket around his shoulders. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and put them on. “I’m gonna come chill on the couch while you cook.”

I smiled up at him, “okay. I’d like to keep an eye on you anyway.” I grabbed his free hand lightly, leading him into the living room.

He didn’t object, so it seemed as if he had just resigned to letting me fuss over him. I didn’t like that he was feeling bad, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him incredibly cute like this. He is always so charismatic and flirty usually, and this sleepy-sick side of him is a bit of a departure.

I released his hand as we reached the living room, and he naturally gravitated to the couch. I watched him trudge along the carpet on his bare feet. He slumped down onto the sofa and shrank into a ball. I walked over and covered his feet with a second throw blanket that I had hanging over the back of the couch. He was so tall that one throw doesn’t cover him completely. Usually, they’re for me because I’m always colder than he is. Sometimes he would complain about how many blankets I have, but I bet he was glad to have them lying around now.

“Alright,” I sighed, handing him the TV remote. “You find something to watch, and I’ll bring you a bowl when the soup is done.” I instructed him, and he nodded.

I went to the kitchen and began making the soup. Every now and then I would peek into the living room to check on Dan. He didn’t seem to notice. In fact, it seemed like he was battling sleep. He really was just like a little kid when he’s sick.

I smiled to myself as I was making the soup, absentmindedly following the instructions. The last thing to do was let the soup simmer for another seven minutes, so I took the time to go change into some pajamas. I put the soup on low, and I made my way down the hall.

After changing clothes, I took my contacts out and put my glasses on. I took off my makeup from the day, and pulled my hair into a messy bun. After I was finished, I made my way back to the kitchen. I bowled two servings of soup, topping mine with extra cheese and sour cream.

When I got into the living room, Dan was dozed off on the arm of the couch, cuddled into fetal position. “He must still be cold,” I muttered quietly. I smiled, sitting our bowls on the coffee table in front of him.

I slowly sat beside him, placing a hand on his thigh. “Dan, wake up, baby. The soup’s ready. You’ve got to eat something.”  
His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at me. He moved to sit up, muttering, “I fell asleep.”

I giggled a little, “I noticed.” I handed him his bowl, and settled back into the couch. I began to spoon the soup into my mouth, savoring the taste of the new recipe. I was in the middle of thinking how I could tweak the recipe next time, when I noticed Dan wasn’t eating. “You okay? Does it suck?” I joked with him, to which he smiled.

“I’m just not feeling well,” he stared at the soup, trying to muster up a brave face.

I leaned forward, placing my bowl back onto the table. I placed a hand to his forehead. “You’re still a little warm. Are you feeling nauseous?”

He nodded, “a little.”

I sighed, “it’s okay. You don’t have to eat it.” I took the bowl from him, and placed it on the table next to mine. I began to rub his back in small circles. “I was thinking you might feel better if you ate something to keep your strength up, but I don’t think it’ll do much good if you throw it all up.”

He smiled at this. He had his elbows rested on his knees, hunched over and staring at his feet. I continued to try and soothe him. Aside from taking him to the ER, it was all I could do to just comfort him.

He looked up from his toes to my face, “you can go ahead and eat. You don’t have to wait for me.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay. How could I possibly sit here and justify eating while you’re feeling sick?”

He frowned. I know he didn’t like me to worry, but I’d rather worry about him than him pretend like everything's okay. “Really, go ahead and eat. I’ll be fine in a minute or two.” He tried to reassure me, reaching to pick up his bowl again.

I knew if I pushed too hard to coddle him, he would only get frustrated, so I sighed in defeat. “Okay, Dan. Don’t push yourself to eat. If you don’t think you can stomach it, you don’t have to.” I reached for my own bowl, and began spooning soup into my mouth again.

He started with small spoonfuls, one by one. I was watching him carefully as I ate my own soup. He was almost halfway through his soup when he put his bowl back down.

I jumped a little, asking “are you gonna be sick?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m good. I think my fever is gone, too. My stomach is still just in knots. I’ll finish the soup later.”

I leaned forward, placing a hand to his forehead. He was right, his fever was gone. I nodded in satisfaction. “Okay, I won’t make you eat anymore. Did you like the new recipe at least?” I asked, spooning the last of my soup into my mouth.

Dan nodded. “Yeah, it’s good.” He then smiled at me with a much more energetic smile than he’d given me all day. It wasn’t quite up to full power, but I was happy about it nonetheless.

He reached up to his ponytail and took the elastic band out, moving it onto his wrist for safe keeping. He shook his hair out with one hand.

I smiled. _His neck must’ve gotten cold_ , I was thinking to myself. He doesn’t often wear his hair up, so he’s not used to the sensation of air on the back of his neck.

I stood and took my bowl to the kitchen. When I came back, Dan had uncurled himself, and only his upper half remained undercover. His eyes were trained on whatever show he had flipped it to. He still looked pale in the face, his eyes not holding their usual shimmer, but at least he felt a little better.

I sat back down in my spot on the couch beside Danny. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, and I could tell he was close to falling asleep again. I smiled and reached a hand up to his head. I lightly brought him down to me as I repositioned us on the large couch. I leaned back against a pillow, with Dan’s ear resting over my heart. My legs were stretched out along the length of his torso, him laying on his side. We relaxed into the new position.

“What are you doing?” He asked me, sounding amused. It was good to hear the laughter in his voice again.

“I want to play with your hair,” I stated simply, kissing the top of his head. I entwined my fingers into his dark brown curls. “You can just go to sleep if you want. I’m comfortable enough to sleep here all night.” I grinned widely down at him.

He looked up at me with a cheeky grin to match my own. “Well, your chest does make a good pillow.”

I lightly bopped him on the nose with my index finger. “Just go to sleep,” I giggled.

He didn’t say anything as he removed his glasses and tucked his head back down, nuzzling into my breast. I briefly wondered if he could hear how my heart thumped with adoration when he did that.

I absentmindedly began twirling locks of hair around my fingers, running my fingertips over his scalp. At first, he was sighing from contentment, but he soon drifted off to sleep. I heard his breathing become even and quiet. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, staying in the same position.

“I love you, Dan Avidan, even if you drive me nuts sometimes. Even if you’re stubborn, you always let me take care of you in the end, and that makes me really happy.” I kissed him on top of his head, took off my own glasses and settled into a comfortable sleep.


	2. Tired

I walked through the door to our house after my first day back at work. I had taken a sick leave to take care of Dan while he was getting over his sickness, and going back to work after staying home for three days in a row was very draining.

I took my coat off, and threw my keys in the dish on the coffee table. Dan’s car was in the driveway, but he wasn’t on the couch watching TV as always. I turned myself to face toward the center of the quiet house.

“Danny, are you home?”

No reply.

He must be doing a long Grump session or working on music with Brian, I thought to myself. I felt a little lonely and slightly relieved at the same time.

I love Dan, but I felt a migraine coming on. I know how I can be when I have a migraine, but Dan still wasn’t fully aware. Having a migraine can be very frustrating because you desperately want the pain to stop, but it just doesn’t, no matter how hard you cry about it. Dan and I had only been living together for a few months, and he hadn’t quite figured out how to treat me when I’m frustrated like that. Hell, I didn’t blame him—I wouldn’t be sure how to handle me either.

I rubbed my fingers to my temples, walking into the kitchen. I pulled a glass down from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink. I gulped the whole glass, and proceeded to fill it again.

This time I carried the glass into the bedroom with me, each step in perfect synchronization with the throbbing ache in my head.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, and I pulled open the top drawer of the night stand. I grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, shaking out two pills. I popped them into my mouth and chugged half the glass of water. I stopped for a breath, placing the glass on the nightstand and replacing the pill bottle into the drawer. I walked over to the dresser. I kicked my shoes off and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing them both onto the floor.

After taking off my bra, and work clothes, I slipped on a pair of Dan’s sweatpants, and pulled the drawstring tight. I pulled one of his t-shirts on, too. It made me feel relaxed to be surrounded by his scent. Then, I trudged into the bathroom to take out my contacts.

Once they were out, I walked back into the bedroom and flopped onto the mattress. I heard my phone ping in the pocket of the sweat pants. I pulled it out and looked at it. The screen seemed much brighter than normal. My head throbbed repeatedly.

I checked my messages—it was from Dan.

_I’m headed out the the door of the Grump space now. Want me to pick up take-out?_

My head was pounding, but I smiled and replied.

_Yes, whatever you want. You know I’m not picky. :)_

After sending the message, I thought maybe I should warn him about my migraine.

_Just try to be quiet when you come in. I have a headache, and I might be sleeping._

I locked my phone, and placed it on the table. I pulled the covers over my head, and shut my eyes. Curling up in a ball, I willed my head to stop throbbing.

After what seemed like seconds, I felt the mattress dip, stirring me from my light sleep. Two arms enveloped me from behind, pulling me into a warm embrace. The room was dark, but there was no mistaking who this person was. His scent invaded my senses.

My migraine still hadn’t faded completely, but at least he was being quiet. He wasn’t squeezing me, and as always, he was being very careful. He cradled me delicately, as if I were a precious porcelain treasure.

Dan lightly kissed my shoulder. “Are you feeling better, baby?” He whispered faintly.

My head thumped with every word. I didn’t have the heart to lie to him. “A little, but my head still hurts.” I laced my fingers in with his, letting him know that what he was doing is okay. He didn’t want to overstep his bounds, and I didn’t want to alienate him. I brought his hand up to my lips and gently kissed his knuckles.

After a pause, he whispered once more. “Can I get you anything?”

I thought for a moment, rolling over to look at him. I couldn’t see him clearly, but I could make out his gentle expression from the evening light that spilled in through the window. I leaned forward and placed my forehead to his, closing my eyes. “Can we just stay like this for a little while?”

He hummed almost inaudibly in response. I opened my eyes, peering at his face. He had also closed his eyes, his thick lashes resting on the tops of his cheeks. He had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

As if he sensed me staring, he opened his eyes and peered back into mine. He brought his hand up to my face, tracing my jaw lightly with his thumb.

I smiled at him with tears gathering in my eyes. I was hoping he wouldn’t notice in the dim light. I was feeling a mixture of pain, frustration, and guilt for treating him so badly last time a migraine came about. It all blended together in a ball of emotion that stuck itself in my throat.

I could barely see his eyebrows crease. I closed my eyes from embarrassment, and he leaned forward even closer, placing his lips to my eyelid.

I could feel the hot tears spill over my skin as his lips made contact. A quiet sob escaped my lips. A sudden swell of emotion overtook me, and I couldn’t resist giving into it. The pain in my head was making it hard to control my bodily reactions.

Dan tangled his fingers into my hair, pulling me close to his chest. I cried into his shirt, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry…” I heaved a trembling sigh in-between sobs.

I heard him chuckle, “what are you sorry about? I don’t mind holding you while you cry. If anything, I’m sorry your head feels like it’s going to explode.” He made a light-hearted joke, undoubtedly trying to make me smile.

I shook my head against his chest, balling his shirt up in my fist. “No, I mean-“ I took a shaky breath and looked up at him, “I’m sorry that I’m always so hard to deal with when I have a migraine, and I’m really sorry I yelled at you last time.”

He smiled, his brows creasing sympathetically again. He stared at me for a second, finally speaking up after a moment. “You don’t have to be sorry.” He wiped my tear streams away with his large thumbs, leaning forward to kiss my nose. “It doesn’t bother me that you yelled at me because I know you were in pain, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“B-but you’re so-so patient with me!” I protest, determined to apologize for my actions.

He pulled me into his chest again, shushing me. He rubbed my back, and combed his fingers through my hair gently.

I continued to sob into his chest. I was feeling very frustrated about what was happening. Part of me wanted him to be mad at me. I wanted him to tell me off for acting like a little bitch, but I knew he never would.

My breathing slowly started to calm, and my sobs ceased. “I’m sorry, Danny.”

He hummed contented. “Do you know why I’m so patient with you?”

I stayed silent, waiting for a reply. The ache in my head was still lingering, but it had certainly faded substantially.

Dan took a breath, continuing to speak. “I’m patient with you because I love you, and only a dick gets mad at his girlfriend when she’s in pain.”  
I snuggled into his chest, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso.

“You’re too good to me, Danny.” I mumbled into his shirt.

“Nah, I knew you weren’t really mad at me,” he kissed the top of my head again. “Yeah, it kind of hurt my feelings the first time you snapped at me over a migraine, but once you told me what was bothering you, I realized you didn’t mean any of it. And just because I don’t know exactly how you feel, I can understand that it makes you frustrated.”

I was welling up with tears again, this time, because I was so damn grateful to have this man in my life—this great, wonderful, sympathetic man.

He chuckled at me, snuggling me close to him. “I’m sorry, I’ll talk more quietly now.”

I smiled into his chest, leaning my head up to look at him. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He simply smiled back at me in response, leaning to kiss me on the lips. The kiss held so much tenderness—it was everything I needed at that moment. It felt so safe and reassuring. It was so simple, but it conveyed everything he needed me to know.

“I love you so much,” I whispered against his lips.

“I love you more than that,” he grinned stupidly at me.

I cuddled into his chest, closing my eyes and drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the story! I also have another story I’m working on with a reader-insert, second POV. It’s not ready yet, however, so while you wait check out Runaway Heart (my main fic). Just click on my username, it’ll take you straight to the page. I promise, if you liked this story, you’ll enjoy that one.


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